“A bath can do wonders, believe me.” She smelled the flowers one more time after shutting the door. The memory of Wallace’s bouquet came back sharply. With Wallace, there was always an angle, an ulterior motive for everything he did. Looking at Sam Tyler’s broad shoulders and massive back as he walked in front of her, she couldn’t imagine him being like that.
“Come to the study, Sam,” she invited. “I’m afraid I’m still learning the layout of Dad’s house. He bought it after I left Houston, you see. I get lost in it when I’m not concentrating on where I’m going.”
Sam gazed appreciatively around the study. It was a huge library filled with leather-bound books, Oriental rugs and expensive antique furniture. He settled on the couch. “It’s quite a place,” he agreed. “Will you be staying here from now on?” It was a thoroughly personal question and one that he probably shouldn’t have asked. Sam noted she wore no wedding ring on her left hand. She turned to him, lifting her shoulders. “I don’t honestly know yet. Would you like a drink?”
“Yes.”
“How about some whiskey?”
He watched as she walked to the liquor cabinet. There was a wonderful gazellelike grace to her walk. He would never tire of watching her. Her dark auburn hair lay thickly on her shoulders, the red highlights glinting like molten fire. “Why whiskey?”
“You looked as though you could handle it,” Kelly remarked.
“Oh?”
“You’re the rugged outdoors type of man.” She gave him a shy look, as if she realized her remark was too personal for the circumstances. “You look as if you could handle anything or anyone.”
Sam stood and walked over to her. He reached out and took the tumbler from her. Their fingers met for only an instant but he was aware of a pleasant sensation as he touched her flesh. “I damn near blew up at you today,” he murmured, “and I apologize. That’s what the flowers are for. Boots told me you flew in as soon as your father died and began running his company.” He lifted his glass in salute to her as she sat down near him on the couch. “Here’s to a lady with courage when it counts.”
Kelly felt heat racing up from her neck to her face. She took a sip of wine, wishing she could steady the sudden pounding of her heart. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared over at Sam. He was being so kind, and she’d gone through so much this week.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. But the tears came anyway and she put the drink down on the coffee table. Her insides were quaking and she wanted to release the backlog of grief she had held in abeyance since the funeral. Her vision blurred as she sat there with both hands against her cheeks. Her lashes were thick with tears. Embarrassed, Kelly rose. “I…I…can’t talk just now…”
He was on his feet in one fluid motion, a huge cat uncoiling from his resting position. Kelly felt the natural warmth of his body as he placed his good arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. His work-roughened hand slid across the muslin, creating a tingling sensation in her flesh. The tender look on his face only increased her need to be held. A small cry escaped from her as she buried her face against his barrellike chest.
“It’s all right,” Sam whispered against her ear. “I’ll just hold you, honey. Go ahead and cry.” She was warm, curving perfectly against the more angular planes of his body. Sam inhaled the fresh, sweet fragrance of her silken hair as he rested his jaw lightly against her head. He felt her body shake with sobs and his grip tightened around her. He wished he had use of his right arm so he could cradle her protectively in his embrace.
The textured weave of the coveralls pressed against Kelly’s cheek as she leaned her head on his chest. His gentle voice encouraged her to vent the grief. He was a stranger. And yet, her heart opened to him like a flower to the rays of the sun. There were no recriminations from Sam Tyler for her unexpected tears. Somehow, Kelly sensed Sam would take this in stride without being embarrassed. Finally, the tears lessened. She remained against him, aware, for the first time, of the drum beat of his heart. It was a soothing sound and Kelly shut her eyes tightly, needing the strength he was giving her.
“Better?” he inquired in a hushed tone, his mouth against her hair.
She gave a convulsive nod of her head, wanting, needing his arm around her body for just one more moment. She felt his fingers tighten momentarily on her shoulder, and unconsciously she nuzzled against his chest.
“Come on,” he urged, “let’s sit down.”
She sniffed. Lifting her eyes, she met Sam’s eyes. His blue gaze held a tender light in its depth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I don’t normally go around crying….”
A slight smile lifted one corner of his sensual mouth. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who goes around crying on anyone’s shoulder. So I consider it quite a compliment.”
Her shoulders drooped as she sat down next to him. Kelly buried her face in her hands for a moment. She was grateful for their closeness. “You’ve been through your own personal hell,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t be laying my troubles at your doorstep.”
Sam shook his head, reached out and slid his arm around her shoulders. “No you don’t,” he admonished gently. “Your father had one hell of a reputation as a fighter. And you’re his daughter. I’d wager you get just as stiff-necked and proud as he was. You don’t let anyone help you.”
Kelly responded to his touch. It was all so crazy. Sam Tyler was a stranger. He had come over to drop off the report. Nothing more. But here she was, leaning against his warm strong body, weeping without restraint. She closed her eyes, needing the solace he provided. Her world had gone berserk and she was far too exhausted to try to halt the cataclysmic events tearing her life apart. Sam Tyler represented the only available source of stability at the moment.
“You’re right,” she returned, her voice nearly inaudible. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself as he continued to lightly massage her shoulders. “I am my father’s daughter.”
Sam managed a soft snort. “Proud, Irish and Texan. One hell of a belligerent combination,” he said without rancor. He gazed down at her with newfound tenderness. It would be easy to close the inches separating them and kiss her. He longed to feel the pliancy of her lips beneath his mouth…what the hell was he thinking about? Sam jerked his torrid thoughts up short.
“Just rest, honey,” he urged quietly. “I’ll sit here and hold you for as long as you need.” He watched as her drooping lids closed. Dark lashes swept across her translucent skin like auburn crescents. The rise and fall of her breasts against him lessened. As the minutes passed her breathing became shallow, indicating that she had fallen asleep. An odd smile curved Sam’s mouth. His day was certainly turning out to hold one surprise after another.
He hadn’t expected to find a woman in charge of Blanchard when he went charging in there with the blown section of pipe. He hadn’t expected to meet a woman who had beauty, intelligence and genuine compassion. Sam looked back down at her. Yes, that was what appealed to him the most about her: the fact that she really cared. Old man Blanchard had always wanted to satisfy his customers by providing a quality product. And his lovely, headstrong daughter was cast from the same mold. Sam found her appealing and couldn’t regret the explosive meeting that had brought them together.
He drew in a breath and his broad brow furrowed with worry. You’d better sleep, Kelly Blanchard, he thought to himself, because when you wake up, there will be more problems to deal with.
